


Could Be My Unintended

by EmpyrealFantasy



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Canon Divergence - Institute Meeting, Case Fic, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Non-sexual Consent Issues, Robot/Human Relationships, Romance, Sad Robots, Spoilers through meeting Father, The Institute - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:26:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5411600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpyrealFantasy/pseuds/EmpyrealFantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick hadn’t noticed he was moving, but he had his hand around Deacon’s neck in the next instant and was pressing him into the wall with a glower. “What. Is. His. Name?”</p><p>Deacon clawed at the flesh hand around his neck. “What the fuck, Valentine? Chill out! Human named Nate, big do-gooder, weirdly old fashioned.”</p><p> Every running process in Nick’s mind froze, his coolant systems working overtime as rage built silently inside him.  The Institute had Nate.  </p><p>[Nate goes missing on a mission for the Railroad.  Nick is determined to get him back... but running headfirst into the Institute's grasp isn't exactly the smartest option for anyone, let alone a discarded prototype.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forget the Reckless Things You've Done

**Author's Note:**

> This will be longish, multi-chapter. Wanted to explore a different way meeting up with the Institute might have happened... and the consequences thereof.
> 
> If you haven't met Father in-game yet, you **do not** want to read this. Don't let me spoil twists for you, pretty please.

“Mister Valentine?  Is that you up there?”

Nick leaned out over the rail he’d been propping his weight against, looking down towards what had once been left field.  Twilight was casting long shadows now, he found, making his optical array need to adjust for the waning light. Nick had been up in the stands for hours without really noting the passage of time, trying and failing to distract himself with memories of hot dogs and cold beer at home games.  Nick, the human Nick, had been fond of baseball.  He’d treated himself to games on days off at least a few times per season, usually alone, occasionally with Jenny or pals from the precinct.

Edna, the teaching assistant, floated below him, her white paint standing out in the shadows. He nodded needlessly. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Magnifique!  One moment; I shall join you there!”

Nick watched her progress up and over a ramp’s handrail to make her way into the stands themselves, her propulsion flames bright.  Perhaps this would work better than solitude to get his mind off things. He’d spent the last however-many hours just standing against the railing, eyes closed and auditory sensors dimmed to a whisper, trying to calm the whirring of his hard drives and the way his servomechanisms seemed to be cycling at several times higher frequency than necessary.

Edna bobbed along to him, arms waving as she neared. “I am so glad to find you!  I ‘ave been looking since school let out.”

“Is something wrong? Nobody’s been giving you trouble, right?”  Like with Takahashi, he liked to keep an eye on Percy and Edna as well to be sure no one was cruel to them.

“Non, non, everything is wonderful.  I ‘ave an invitation for you!”

“An invitation?”

Her eyestalks dipped and she exuded joy. “Oui.  For you and Mister Nate.”

The reminder of why Nick had been in the stands to begin with made him need to hold back a cringe. “What is the invitation to?”

“Pastor Clements has agreed to marry Mister Zwicky and myself!”

Nick blinked. “Oh, well congratulations!”

Edna bobbed a nod, spinning her arms like she couldn’t contain herself. “I am _joyous_.  Without Mister Nate, however, I would never have had the courage to explain my feelings.”

“What did he do?”  Knowing Nate, he’d been playing matchmaker. 

“I asked him about love. He showed me that, despite our differences, love was precious.  Mister Zwicky will not live much longer, not like you and I.  But it is better to spend the time I have with him as close as possible, non?”

The universe was obviously conspiring against him.  Nick barely resisted the urge to bash his head into the railing. “Well, I’m happy for you.  Nate isn’t in town right now, but if he makes it back in time I’ll let him know.”

She gently handed over a mottled piece of paper that had careful handwriting across it. “Thank you so much, Mister Valentine!  I am such a lucky ‘bot, am I not?”

He smiled, weak though it was. “Yes, you are.  Good luck, Edna.”

As she floated away, Nick’s fingers gripped the rail harder.  This wasn’t working.  None of his attempts to take his mind off of Nate’s absence and the reason for it had worked thus far.  Nothing helped. Nothing had helped for weeks.

For just a moment, he longed for a time before a man had come stumbling out of the past and into Nick’s life, guns blazing, to release him from imprisonment without expecting a thing in return except maybe a lead.  Life had surely been simpler before Nate.  Folks had come to him for help and he’d helped them, easy as that.

But looking back, his life had been empty.  Before Nate – before dazzling, soft smiles directed at no one but him, before finding someone he could confide in that could understand the life that wasn’t his own, before realizing that even without the organs he could feel like his heart was racing and his stomach swooping – he’d been getting by fine.  But Nate’s sudden entry into his life had heralded his ascension into the wider world, to a reminder of bigger problems than cheating spouses and runaway daughters, to a purpose that few had the wherewithal to fill.

Since being left behind in Diamond City once more a few weeks prior, Nick had truly understood the magnitude of the changes within himself. 

And it was worse now.  For all that their relationship had become strained in the last months, Nate had still made it a point to check in every week or so to make sure Nick hadn’t needed his assistance.  But it had been nearly a month now without word, and Nick was slowly losing his cores in a combination of worry and helplessness.

He made his way carefully down from the stands, nodding to Takahashi as he passed and dodging the human denizens of Diamond City.  The walkway to the agency was as dark as ever, the bright neon of the sign he’d lovingly crafted decades ago leading him on.  He fell back against the door as he entered, letting the heavy plating on the back of his skull ring against the metal of the door.

“Boss?  That you?”

He was surprised she was still here. “Ellie?”

He heard the mattress under the stairs squeak and she popped around the corner moments later.  She was in her pajamas and had a sheepish hand on the back of her neck. “Sorry I didn’t ask to crash here tonight, but Brenda was being a real bitch—“

“Ellie, you know you can stay here whenever you want.  This didn’t stop being your home just cuz you grew up.”  He’d taken her in when she was all raging adolescence and pockmarks, her parents having been found to be at the head of a Commonwealth-wide Raider ring.  She was the closest thing to a child he’d ever have, and he’d never turn her out. “You could move back in and I wouldn’t blink an eye.”

She gave him a tiny, glowing smile. “I know, Nick.  I just like being self-sufficient now; I don’t like imposing unless I have to.”  With a physical shake she straightened and donned her more usual confidence. “Did Edna ever find you?  She was looking earlier.”

“Yeah, yeah she did.  Apparently she’s marrying Zwicky and wants me to attend.”

A knowing arch of Ellie’s eyebrow followed as she propped herself against the wall. “Imagine that, a robot getting past the differences between them and admitting their love for a human. Seems rather relevant to your angst, boss.”

He scowled. “My situation is a hell of a lot more complicated than Edna’s, thanks.  But I don’t need to hear it from you, kiddo.  Have enough thoughts on the matter to last me til my everlasting battery runs out.  Go back to bed.”

“I’m a grown woman now, I don’t have bedtimes!” She grinned and stood up anyway, shaking her head. “But I will anyway.  Don’t burn yourself out overthinking things.  He’ll turn up again soon.”

Nick sighed and made his way to his desk, flopping into his chair and pulling out his cigarettes. “Yeah, yeah.  Goodnight, El.”

A process idly tracked the sounds of her movements around the corner as she fluffed her pillow and eased her way back into bed. Nick rolled his cigarette between his forefinger and thumb, staring up at the ceiling.  Twenty-six days, nine hours, thirty-three minutes since Nate’s last checkin.  He’d sent word out to Preston Garvey with the Minutemen to see if he had heard word without any return word. He also hadn’t seen Carla back in town, so she may have just been held up. 

Lighting his cigarette, Nick pushed thoughts of Nate as far from his mind as he was able.  It wasn’t far, but he did what he could.  He’d promised Ellie that he’d integrate in the last few months of cases into the cabinets; when she was sixteen she’d tried to reorganize his filing system and ended up storming out after screaming at him.  Since then, she’d refused all filing on her own, and with his travels with Nate he’d been neglecting it.

Hours passed this way.  Ellie woke not long after daybreak and the scent of coffee filled the office.  She puttered around in her pajamas for the majority of the morning, adding a few more files to the stack on his desk she wanted him to look over.  Around lunch, she dressed and left with a promise to check in that evening, leaving Nick to his mindless task.

He plodded on, using the monotony to blank his RAM as well as he could.  He had his auditory sensors dimmed and kept all his detection and proximity sensors on their lowest settings, just trying to focus on nothing but the black ink on white paper.  Thus, he was startled rather badly when a hand dropped onto his shoulder and gripped him hard.

Nick spun in his chair, eyes wide. “What the— Hancock?”

The ghoul had a wry expression on his face as Nick straightened and returned his systems to human normal. “Sorry there, Detective.  Couldn’t get your attention.”

Nick pulled out a cigarette, handing one over to Hancock as well when he made grabby hands.  He lit it before responding. “What brings you all the way to Diamond City, Mayor Hancock?  I can’t image you’d sneak in for just anything.”

The grin on Hancock’s face dropped, a grimmer expression than Nick had seen in years settling in its place. “Yeah, here on business.  You seen Nate lately?”

Nick’s power core whirred and sped. “No, not in weeks.  You haven’t either?”

“Nope, and though he isn’t glued to me like he is to you, he’s never gone this long without checking in. And if he hasn’t even been to _you_ , Trouble mighta bit off something bigger than he could chew.”

His cooling system might as well have not existed. “What was he up to when you last saw him?  When he left last you were with him.”

“Fahrenheit needed me back in Goodneighbor for a few days, so he’d gone exploring the area around.  He hadn’t been planning on going far, but he stopped coming back to my place to crash after the first few days. Figured he’d just got caught up with you again, but it’s been almost two weeks now without a peep from him.”

“Shit.” Nick stubbed out his cigarette and immediately pulled out another.  For all that the nicotine didn’t affect him, placating the original Nick’s tics and oral fixation helped to focus him. “Right, we need to get word to the Minutemen, then.  If they can pass word to their settlements we’re more likely to find someone who’s seen him. I assume you’ve already asked all your people?”

Hancock had pulled out a canister of Jet and was shaking it. “Yep, days ago.”

Nick racked his hard drives for ideas.  “Ah!  I need to talk to Piper and get her to go check with that Brotherhood of Steel soldier over in Cambridge.  He was trying to recruit Nate a few weeks back.  Maybe he went and took him up on his offer to check things out?”

Hancock made a face. “Fuck, I hope not.  I hate those tin cans. Nate’s better than their bullshit.”

“Yeah, but this specific tin can was a very morally upright sort preaching about improving the Commonwealth.”

“Ugh, right up Trouble’s ridiculously good guy alley then,” Hancock said with a twisted expression of disdain. “Well, I’ll let you tend to that.  But seriously, if you hear anything…”

It was rare the boy showed such concern.  That he came himself was a huge indicator in and of itself, and Nick understood the way that Nate got under people’s skins.  He met John’s eyes now and sighed, steepling his flesh and metal fingers. “I’ll let you know if I get word.  Same to you, obviously.”

“Of course, brother.” Hancock tipped his tricorn and made his way back to the door, peeking out before turning back and digging what looked to be a paint bucket out of the satchel he kept over his shoulder. “Gonna go leave a… present for the mayor before I. He hates yellow.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Don’t let security find you, please. Your brother stopped being willing to keep your ass outta trouble years ago.”

“You think I can’t evade those basketheads?  Puh-lease.  See you, Nicky.”

Fear was an uncomfortable sensation in his central core. His power reactor and cooling systems churned and whined, leaving his metal fingers to methodically tap-tap-tap against the desk without his conscious direction.  Hancock had been who he’d last seen Nate with, but Hancock hadn’t seen him in two weeks.  Two weeks.  Nick’s flesh hand balled into a fist.

If the idiot human had gone and gotten himself killed, Nick would absolutely shoot the ass.

 

* * *

 

 

Preston Garvey was dusty from the not-inconsiderable distance between Sanctuary and Diamond City, his hat crooked on his head and a frown was etching deep lines in his young face.  “So no one’s seen him in three weeks?”

“Not that I’ve found.  Talked to Mayor Hancock over in Goodneighbor, all my contacts around the city here, even had one of the gals in town go inquire to the Brotherhood of Steel.  No one has seen or heard from Nate since Hancock saw him last.  You have any ideas where he might have gone?”

“I mean, all he really wants is to find his son.  I’d assume he was still looking for leads on the Institute, but it isn’t like he’d have _found_ them, right?”

Nick shook his head. “That seems unlikely.  But even if he had, he'd have come and gotten someone to go with him.  None of the Minutemen have seen him?”

“No, none that have sent word at least.  But some of them are further out; supply runs only happen weekly, usually, so we might still get word.”

“Can’t say I’m feeling optimistic.”  Nick kicked his boots up onto the table, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling. “There’s a hell of a lot of danger out there, especially for someone as foolhardy as that man.” He hated thinking it but was forcing himself to be realistic. The idea of Nate being harmed made him wish he had the ability to be ill, but he had to look at the facts.

“Don’t you dare lose hope, Valentine.” Garvey had planted his hands on Nick’s desk and was staring at him seriously.  He had the same careworn but determined expression that Nate donned so often. “The General has survived two hundred years and transitioning from his world to ours, he isn’t going to get taken out so easily.  Believe in him!”

Nick wished he could, but he’d seen too many good people eaten by the wasteland to truly believe it.  He sighed and looked away from the Minuteman’s eyes. “Guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

A sigh came from the man and Nick heard the door opening. “Detective, I know you care about him.  But he wouldn’t want to see you lose hope like this.”

“Hard to know what he’d want when he’s gone and disappeared, huh?”

The door fell shut, leaving Nick alone again.  Good, that was better. 

In the week since Hancock had stopped by Nick had been completely frying his circuits trying to get a lead.  There hadn’t been a peep from anyone who’d seen Nate, though.  Slowly but surely, Nick’s inherent pessimism – borne from a lifetime plus of watching the bad guys get away and good people get harmed – was creeping in.  Damn him for falling so deep for someone so mortal.  Damn him for believing again that there might be something good in a world.

He blindly reached into a pocket and pulled out a cigarette, tapping it against the plate of his metal hand. He was literally out of ideas.  Piper, the mercenary MacCready, and now Garvey were all packed into the Publick Occurrences office when they weren’t out looking for information. Hancock sent people every few days just to get no-info updates.  Nick was losing what little remained of his sanity.

A knock on the door and the squeak of the hinges broke his reverie, making Nick frown. “No, Garvey. I'm not doing anything else today.”

“Not who you think it is, Valentine.”

He sat up at the unfamiliar voice, dropping his feet to the ground and eyes focusing on the figure in the door. “Deacon?”

He was without his wig today, in a farmer’s gear with a large pack on his back. “Long time no see, Detective.”

He hadn’t seen the human for months; not since long before Nate had come bursting into his life. “What brings you to my part of the Commonwealth?”

Deacon shrugged off the pack, dropping into the chair left crooked across the desk from Nick. “Got a case for you, man.”

Nick grunted. “Depending on what it is and its urgency, you might wanna find someone else to help ya.  Got a lot going on around here.”

Deacon eyed the cluttered office and the overfull ashtray. “Err, yeah.  I… see that.  But this is important.”

“Isn’t everything?” Nick said cynically, finally lighting the beaten up cigarette he’d been fiddling with.

“Well yeah, but this is pretty big.  You’ve been all over the Commonwealth for decades, man.  You ever hear _anything_ on the location of the Institute?”

“Doesn’t everyone want to know that? You think I’d not have told folks by now if I knew where they were?  All I know is that they use teleportation to get in and out.  They might have some regular entrance somewhere, but I've never heard a whisper about the location of it.” Nick rolled his eyes, grinding the servos that controlled them. “Not sure why this would suddenly be urgent, though.  Haven’t you folks with the Railroad been searching for years?”

“Mostly not.  Mostly we just try to help the synths that want out.  But we had a new field operative go missing recently. He was real stuck on finding the location of them and got taken right out from under my nose.”

Nick sat up so fast that the liquids in his core sloshed. He zeroed in on the startled human across from him. “Wanted to find the Institute, you say?”

“Yeah, super focused on it.  Something about finding a kid.”

Nick was on his feet in a moment, stalking around his desk.  Deacon jumped up as well in alarm.

“Valentine?”

Nick stopped a foot away, eyes boring into the man before him. “What is the man’s name, Deacon?”  He didn’t want to believe it, but all his conclusions were leading there.

“We call him Charmer. We don’t like to toss names around, you know that.”

Nick hadn’t noticed he was moving, but he had his hand around Deacon’s neck in the next instant and was pressing him into the wall with a glower. “What. Is. His. Name?”

Deacon clawed at the flesh hand around his neck. “What the fuck, Valentine? Chill out! Human named Nate, big do-gooder, weirdly old fashioned.”

 Every running process in Nick’s mind froze, his coolant systems working overtime as rage built silently inside him.  The Institute had Nate.  For weeks, Nate had been in the hold of the enemy and Nick hadn’t even known. Nate could be dead.

“Boss?  Come on, Detective, calm down!  Nick!”

Nick wondered if this was what Jet felt like to humans.  He felt like he was moving in slow motion, tilting his head to meet worried brown eyes.  It took long seconds for his mind to catch up and identify Ellie.  He hadn’t even heard her come in.

“You in there, Nick?”

“They have Nate.” He didn't even recognize his own voice through the rasp of desperation suffusing it.

“I know, I heard. But you have to calm down.  You can’t help him if you lose your marbles.”

Deacon was slowly standing – why was he on the ground? – wary eyes flicking between them. “Uh, you guys know Nate?”

Nick’s hackles rose and a thunderous frown etched itself into his face.  Ellie’s hand patting his forearm stalled his scathing retort long enough for her to answer in his place. “He and Detective Valentine here have been partnering up for months now.  He means a lot to us.”

The understatement made Nick rankle, but he was not going to expose himself by saying anything stronger. “Where did you lose him?”

“I didn’t lose him!” Deacon snapped with a roll of his eyes.  “Dumbass ran and practically hand-delivered himself.  We were checking out an old safehouse to see if there had been survivors, but the Institute was still there.  We fought through the chromedomes for a while – no offense, Valentine – but there was a Courser.  I thought we were running, but halfway back to the exit door Nate told me to wait for a minute for him, popped out of the room we were in, then just didn’t come back.  I’ve been searching for word since and got intel that he’s been taken in alive.”

Nick steadied himself with a hand on his desk, staring at the floor.  Fuck. How in the hell did they get Nate back from a place no one knew the location of? If he was even still alive—

Ellie shook him by the hand on his arm. “Nick, I’m going to go get the others.  They’ll want to know we have word. We’ll figure out something.”

“What the hell is there to figure out?  If the Institute has him, unless they magically give him back we’re screwed! No one knows where they are!”

She made pointless shushing noises, stroking his arm despite knowing that arm no longer had sensitive enough sensors in it to really notice. “C’mon, keep it together for the case if for no other reason.  The Institute wants to take our Nate?  We’ll make them regret it.  Right?”

Nick tightened his fingers into fists and seethed, but he nodded jerkily. “Fine, fine.  Get everyone together.  We need to talk about the Glowing Sea.”


	2. Everything About You is so Easy to Love

“Valentine?  Nick, c’mere and see this, holy shit.  I am so creeped out.”

Nick could hear the human he’d taken up with shouting down the corridor.  Damn, but they were lucky they weren’t being swarmed by every Raider and feral in the wasteland with how he was carrying on.  Nick quickly skirted the puddles of standing water and corpses of the few ghouls that had greeted them upon entry. “You gonna tell every bad guy in the Commonwealth that we’re here, bucko? Voices carry in places like this.”

His face flushed darkly, easily visible even in the low light. “Err, crap.  Sorry about that.  I’m still getting used to how—“

Nick waved a hand. “Nah, don’t worry about it.  No harm done.”

He looked where Nate was standing and saw that some… enterprising wastelander had set up a scene with teddy bears and medical supplies (including one holding a bonesaw) in the train car.  It was a bit disturbing. Nick shook his head and tugged at the human’s arm. “C’mon, I saw a terminal up ahead across the tracks.”

Nate smiled at him, straight white teeth gleaming. He’d listened to the man argue with Cait for almost an hour about his fastidiousness; the fact that Nate made a point of at least cleaning up every day, brushed his teeth and hair, and scrubbed himself whenever possible completely perplexed the woman.  Hell, it would perplex most people in the Commonwealth, Nick thought.  It made Nate gleam amongst them, and even when he  _was_  dirty he still had this… otherness about him.  Nick found his eyes trailing to the man at the least opportune times like he was magnetized.

He wondered how he’d ever go back to his normal life after this.  It hadn’t even been a month, but being in close quarters with one person and in life-threatening situations had a way of bonding you.  They’d fallen together ridiculously easily, though.  Felt out one another’s tics and idiosyncracies, learned how they behaved in a fight so they could cover one another, learned how to navigate when they camped out for the night once it got to dark to move on.

If it weren’t for the seriousness of their mission to track down Nate’s son, it was almost a vacation for Nick.  For all that he was in more mortal peril than he’d been in since he’d landed in Diamond City, exploring derelict buildings, clearing out Raider camps, and saving farmers and citizens alongside Nate was  _liberating_.  He felt useful, necessary, and like there was more out there than just the shallow tribulations of those who’d rarely been outside of the city’s walls.  Nate made him hope again for the first time in god knew how long.  Made him feel like he could make a difference rather than just accept the nastiness around him as it was.

Broken down he may be, but he was still kicking and could still hold a gun.  So long as that was the case, Nick would happily shove all his processing power into solving all the mysteries this human could present him with.

That he already wished to follow this man until he couldn’t anymore… that should worry him more than it did, he thought.

Nate nudged his shoulder into Nick’s as they approached the locked door and terminal Nick had found, and his usual smile took on a different cast: shy, almost. “Sorry again for being obnoxious.  I’m going to end up driving you nuts before I ever get used to this place.”

Nick returned the smile. “Like I said, no harm done. You’ve had a hell of a change in circumstance.  You deal with it pretty damn well for all you’ve been through.”

The smile dimmed and the man’s head bowed. Nick cringed and regretted bringing it up now.  The man had lost his wife and had his son stolen only a few weeks ago, was now in a world unlike anything he’d likely even imagined before.  And here went Nick, reminding him just how dire his straights were. “Ah hell, sorry pal.  I didn’t mean to rub salt in the wounds.”

For all that Nick was enjoying this change, he had to remember that this wasn’t some fun jaunt to his new companion.  This was for his family, his life.

 “It isn’t like I forget.  You don’t have to walk on eggshells with me.” With under a minute of keystrokes he’d gotten them in.  Nick tried not to list toward him.  The man swung his rifle back to ready, deft fingers pulling the mag, pressing in bullets to refill it, and clacking it back into place all within seconds.  His thumb caressed the safety. Nick found himself feeling something like a shiver through his wiring. After peering around the doorframe he continued in an undertone. “I loved Nora and I will be getting my son back even if it kills me.  But I’ve always been adaptable.  Military does that to you.  And for all that Boston has changed… some bits aren’t so bad.”

“How can you say that?  I don’t remember life before as well as you, and I don’t gloss it like some of the ghouls might, but I remember enough of the good.  Comparatively, this world is a shit heap.”

Nate began walking, low to the ground, peeking around corners and taking potshots at anything that looked like it might be a ghoul.  The occasional wail told Nick that the man actually hit living ones every so often, rather than just wasting his ammo on corpses. “Yeah, it was pretty back then.  I miss trees so much already… in the month I’ve been out, I think greenery is really what I miss most.  I took for granted how freaking gorgeous everything could be.  But people?  People don’t change.  Fighting never really changes.  I kinda prefer it as it is now, with people just letting their intentions and violence hang out rather than glossing over it like before.”

Nate was silent for a moment as he snuck forward, back to a wall, spying movement down a long hallway. He flicked his fingers at Nick fast, two up for the number of enemies, quick directional signals for which he wanted Nick to target.  With a nod, they emerged and took down the two ferals at the end of the hall, with one abnormally strong one getting close enough to leave them staring into the pinpricks of glowing abyss that was its eyes.

As Nate stood and began tapping at another terminal to unlock it, the shiver was back down Nick’s spinal bundle. “We were real good at burying our heads in the sand before the bombs fell.” Nate’s voice was soft, distant as he glared at the screen, breaking off his narrative every so often to cuss.  “Good at taking the world for granted, felt entitled to the comforts we’d bought on the backs of so many others. Every people thought they were better than every other people.  That hasn’t changed, really.  But at least it all hangs out now.  No one tries to slather civility over top of their racism or violence.  Everyone, at their core, is just working hard to eat and  _live_.  A man like me?  This is my element.” With a click, the door opened, leaving Nate to toss a brilliant grin over his shoulder.

“Any machine you can’t charm, partner?”

“Nope; I always get my way in the end.” It was said as his grin tilted towards devilish, but Nate was ducking through the door and gunfire was erupting before Nick could really process the comment.   Nick forced his processors back online so he could leap into the fray. Creator be damned, but he must be getting old; he couldn’t stop watching the human even as his targeting systems took precedence and helped him aim at the enemies around them.  He needed to run a diagnostic and be sure his prioritizations weren’t corrupted.

As Nate made himself dinner that night, singing under his breath offkey to the radio, Nick remembered.  He called up a thorough check and found nothing abnormal. But as he finished he found his eyes had reflexively kept trailing after Nate’s movements around the fire, the ridiculous shimmies he was doing between stirs, the way he held the ladle as a microphone.  His face shone gold with the fire, but Nick's mind had long since gleefully categorized the hex code of green that Nate’s eyes were in the sunlight (6fe052, RGB 111, 224, 82 with HSV variations of 96cd32 ringing his pupils) and had counted the scars that dotted the man’s face and neck (thirteen not counting faint signs of acne scarring here and there, eleven if you counted the faintly disconnected Y bisecting his right eyebrow as only one scar).

It was right around then, not even a month in, that Nick had realized he was well and truly up shit creek with this human.  But maybe, at that point, he’d still had a paddle for a little while, at least.

 

* * *

 

“Nick?  You up there?”

Nick unwound one arm from behind his head to prod his hat enough to uncover his eyes.  He glanced over to the stairwell from where he lay. “Yep.”

Ellie appeared moments later, her lips pursed and hands on her hips. “You know, it’s been years since I moved out. When we took my stuff out, you promised you’d actually try to use it like it was your room rather than just zoning out creepily at your desk when you wanted to pass time.  But this is the first time I’ve seen you use it… and it’s to mope like a teenager and avoid everyone.”

Nick tipped his hat back down over his eyes and made a rough, “Harrumph,” in his throat.

“Come on, you grumpy bucket of bolts. Get up and come help me wrangle these people.  They just keep throwing the same arguments back and forth – they need a voice of reason.”

It wasn’t like he couldn’t hear them.  They were all downstairs in the office below him and he swore he had the first headache of his metal existence.

“For Creator’s sake!  Detective Valentine, get your tin ass up this instant before I kick it!  Do you think I won’t tell Nate every detail of your pathetic sulk when he gets back?”

He’d raised her too well.  He sat up slowly, hands dangling between his knees.  “What makes you think I can be anything even close to resembling a voice of reason here?”

“Because you’re older than all of them, nearly combined, and you have the best motivation.  Now stuff your pessimism and go get Nate back!”

Nick gave a wry laugh and raked a hand roughly over his cracked, dense synthetic face. “You’re one hell of a dame, El.”

“And you’re a much better guy when you’re not lost in your own circuit board.  Come on, join the world.”

Nick reluctantly trailed after her, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket and a scowl set on his face.  He made sure his auditory sensors were set low, as the dull roar of the argument was already overwhelming when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

Piper was shouting. “If Blue thought this Virgil might have the answer, then why don’t we just go to him?!” Nick rounded to wall to see her with her hands planted on Nick’s desk and staring over at the others spread around the room reclining on file cabinets, sitting on Ellie’s desk and in her chair, and even sprawled on the ground in the case of Hancock.  “This is ridiculous!  We want into the Institute, guy knows how.  Viola!”

“Listen, sister, I don’t know if you’re naïve or just dumb, but I’m a fucking ghoul and even I’m not eager to dive headfirst into the Glowing Sea. This isn’t stories about politics or the freaking noodle stand.  This is enough rads to grow me a whole forest of noses.”

“You’re so pathetic. Of course  _you’d_  advocate sitting back and doing nothing.”

“Hey, fuck off! Nate’s more my goddamned friend than yours and I want to find him more than nearly any of you assholes. But there’s a difference between doing something and doing something right.”

Preston Garvey laid a gentle hand on Piper’s arm to forestall her.  Nick gave him credit for trying. “Mayor Hancock, it might make things less tense if you offered whatever suggestions you might have.”

“Pretty much anything that doesn’t mean running headfirst into Deathclawtopia.”  Hancock had a small pile of Jet canisters piled beside him; he was shaking and taking hits from them in turn, apparently trying to see if any had remnants left in them.

“Seconded,” MacCready threw in from where he was cleaning his rifle across his lap. “I owe the boss a shit-ton, but I don’t think he’d be okay with any of us putting ourselves in that kind of danger.”

“But we don’t have any  _options_!” Piper cried, banging the palms of her hands against the desk. “If there was anything else that even a single one of you could think of, we’d do that instead!  But without this lead, we’re just sitting here with our thumbs up our asses while who knows what happens to Nate!”

Deacon, from where he sat cross-legged atop Ellie’s desk, was looking around the room like he was watching a sporting event. “What a retrieval team this is. Shit, Charmer attracts a lotta… uhh… what’s a nice way to say ‘bloatfly-pus crazy people’?”

“There’s a nice way?” MacCready said wryly, the clack of his rifle’s bolt sliding back into place loud in punctuation.

“Crazy or not, brother, we’re the only team you’ve got.”

 Nick finally levered himself up off the wall, taking the last few steps forward to catch the room’s attention.

“Well shit, look what the dog dragged in. Back with us, Nicky?”

“I’ll leave in the morning.  Anyone wants to go with, be equipped.”

Protests rose from all corners of the room immediately, even Piper. “Are you nuts, Valentine?  We need to actually plan before going in; I didn’t mean for us to just run in blindly!”

“Nicky, Nate will literally kill all of us if you get damaged, man.  I don’t think you’re the best choice.”

“Uhh, by ‘equipped’, what are you saying?  Like, to die?  Because that’ll be the outcome if I go.  I’d really rather not gain new orifices via Deathclaw or end up a ghoul from radiation.  No offense, Hancock.”

“None taken, MacCready.”

Nick waved a hand, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. “Arguing about it is just wasting time.  Radiation can’t hurt me, and it would take a lot for a Deathclaw to actually damage me permanently.  I’ve made up my mind.  Now outta my office, all of ya.”

“No way!” Piper stomped forward, jabbing her pointer finger into his chest plating. “This is even stupider than just sitting around here doing nothing.  Ellie, you aren’t going to let him go haring off and get himself killed, are you?”

Nick glanced back where his assistant stood, fiddling with the end of her scarf. “If the choice is between this and him giving up?  I’ve seen the Detective pull off death defying stunts for years now.  I just have to believe he can do it one more time when it counts.”

Nick felt near-to-human rarely in his usual daily existence. But there were times, exhilarating highs and tragic lows, that reminded him that despite his mechanics he had a human at his base.  Previous to Nate, Ellie was the one shining star in his life that reminded him more often than most things.  She was a jewel, and he was a lucky man to have gotten a role in shaping the woman she’d become.

 He smiled to her and got one in return. Nick went to his desk to flick ash into his ashtray, stepping around Piper and leaning past Garvey.  He glanced around. “Well?  Either go plan what the hell we’re gonna do once we know how to get into the Institute, go plan a backup in case this fails, or go get things together if you’re going with me.  The kicker is that all these things include you all vacating.  Sitting around here gabbing isn’t helping anybody.”

They argued, of course.  Piper most vociferously, but Preston from the Minutemen surprisingly firm as well.  But Nick had decades of tuning out humans, so eventually they all trailed out, all with promises to pick the argument back up first thing in the morning.  Nick planned to be gone before they could.

“Be safe, boss.  Promise me.”

Nick frowned up at Ellie, stubbing out his cigarette. “You know I can’t.”

“Do it anyway?  Please?”

The pleading look in her eyes made him stand and wrap his arms around her, squeezing just slightly. “I’ll do my best.”

She shook her head and adjusted his tie, patting his chest before leaving as well.  He stared after her for long moments before sitting again with a shake of his head.  He pulled a rolled map from his bottom drawer and used his fan and ashtray to keep the southwest sector flat.  The Glowing Sea.  He’s rarely gone far from Diamond City since he’d ended up there decades prior.  He and Nate had ventured close when staking out how difficult getting to Virgil would be, but after seeing the reality of the place Nate had been checking other avenues in hopes of finding an alternative.

Nick grimaced.  Nate had found another way in, all right.

“So you’re really gonna do this?”

He glanced back at the only remaining human; Deacon sat still on Ellie’s desk, sunglasses propped on top of his head. “Can’t see much of a choice from here.”

“I’ve gotta say, I’m pretty stunned by the depth of feeling the guy inspires.  I feel a bit better about how hard and fast he got my loyalty, knowing it isn’t just me.  Kind of awe-inspiring, all these people who are willing to go to the ends of the earth, or the Commonwealth at least, just for a chance to save his ass.”

 Nick snorted. “Nate’s good like that.  He’s just too genuine for the wasteland.”

“I can crash here, right?”

Nick frowned, peering out of the corner of his eye. “Can’t you get a room at the Dugout?”

“Well yeah, but why waste caps when you have two beds you never use?”

He waved the man away and listened to his feet on the stairs and the floor above as he shrugged out of his trench coat.  He traced a vague outline of where the impact crater was believed to be; so far as they were aware, the man was hiding out near there.  How he had survived all these years Nick couldn’t fathom.  Even the Children of Atom that tended to congregate at these sites cycled in and out of the worst irradiated space if they hadn’t decided to be ‘divided’.  The one they’d cornered hadn’t been very willing to talk past acknowledging the existence of the man near their holy land.

He doodled possible survival methods in the margins.  Hazmat suits alone wouldn’t work.  He imagined the man must be deep underground at the very least.  Great. Looking for a cave in a rocky nothingness.  He tapped his pencil as he tried to think of any ways to help himself search but came up blank.  It was literally going to be looking for a molerat hole amongst craters.  Joyous.

Nick sketched a rough line delineating the boundary of where he thought Virgil must be.  If the cultists saw him regularly in the crater, he must not be overly far from there.  If it was much further than half a day, he’d make far fewer trips and stock up more.  That was only… a few miles of unknown wasteland.  If he was methodical, it shouldn’t take more than a week or two, even without assistance from the Children at the crater site.

The idea of searching for weeks while Nate’s fate was unknown was crushing.  Nick pressed a hand to his chest to try and banish the phantom sensation.  He was logical.  He was literally made of logic circuits.  There was no reason to feel like he was being constricted.

When midnight came and went without any useful progress or thoughts, Nick irritably re-donned his jacket and mounted the stairs.  Deacon slept sprawled on his stomach and snoring, but Nick could see the hand tucked under his pillow was wrapped around a pistol.  The man was irreverent and enjoyed toying with people a bit too much, but Nick couldn’t say he wasn’t sharp.  Nick stayed as quiet as he could as he opened the door to the rooftops and slid out.

The evening air was brisk, or at least his sensors told him that was the case.  He wished he remembered more simple things, like what cool air felt like against his skin or the warmth of the sun.  His processors translated something he was pretty sure was vaguely like human sensation, but the real thing, he recalled, was far more potent.

He stepped quietly in deference to the citizens of the city sleeping under his feet.  But though he might weigh more than any human due to his internal components and metal frame, he had had many years of practicing stealth.  He stepped carefully and lightly as he traversed the meandering path around the market, collar turned up and shoulders hunched.

He’d meant to avoid Piper’s place altogether after the all-too-excitable evening preceding, but the soft strains of the main theme of Chopin’s Ballade No. 1 lured him in that direction.  Piper and Nat were fond of Travis’s station, but his omnidirectional sound capabilities were pointing directly to her rooftop.

Garvey was there, a clipboard balanced on his knees and several scraps of paper stacked upon it.  Nick was surprised he could even read them in the low light.  He approached carefully, sure to make enough noise to signal his approach, and was greeted by a soft smile from the man. “Hey there, Detective.”

“Garvey.  Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Call me Preston, please.  And yeah, I certainly should.  But with the General running all our field operations, someone has to take care of the administrative side of things for the Minutemen.  I’ve been slacking on correspondence for weeks now.  Figured a sleepless night didn’t have much better use than this.”  Preston waved a hand. “Sit, join me.  Clear night, good reception.  We don’t get it as clearly out in Sanctuary.  Can still hear it fine, but it isn’t as crisp as it is here in the heart of the Commonwealth.  If it weren’t for the annoying beeping that’s started up between songs, the night would be near perfect.”

Against his better judgment, Nick sank to sit beside the man.  The stars were mostly hidden behind clouds tonight, but the diffused moonlight and the glow of the market below left a nice ambiance to match the strains of the ballade’s piano.  He sat in silence for a minute or two beside the human, just enjoying the evening and the moments without his hard drives racing.

“We will get him back, you know.”

“Ah, so you’re an optimist too.  Nate speaks highly of you.  Shoulda known.”

Preston scoffed and shook his head, cursing under his breath as he shook the pen he was using. “Nope, just confident. The General is one of a kind.  I knew the minute I met him that he was gonna change the whole Commonwealth; I could feel it.  He hasn’t finished his work yet, so I know we have to get him back.”

“I wish I had your certainty.”

“You can borrow some if you need it.  You likely will, running into Deathclaw country for a human you’ve only known a few months.”

Nick snorted and pulled up his knees, staring out at the vague skyline that once was Boston beyond Diamond City’s walls.  “He makes big impressions very fast on everyone.  I can sympathize.”

“Mmm, I bet.  He’s especially fond of you too, you know.  You say he speaks highly of me?  You might as well control the moon, Detective.”

He was glad he couldn’t blush.  He refused to flinch or otherwise react, though, as he continued staring out into nothing. “Only because he’s too busy with the sun.”

As the music reached its frantic crescendo Nick found a chill running down his spinal wiring.  A gust of wind whipped at them in the most dramatically suitable moment for the music, making Preston curse and slap a hand onto his clipboard to save his papers.  Nick just stayed staring up at the revealed stars with a feeling like portent tickling the edges of his awareness, metal and flesh hands balled at his sides.

The piano played its closing sequence, fading out then building into the signature rolling arpeggios that never failed to make Nick’s spine stiffen in anticipation.  As the triple forte faded into the night Nick nearly relaxed.  His air-actuator musculature began deflating and Nick tried to relax back again.  As the beeping started, he recalled Preston grumbling about it before he’d sat down, the sudden addition to the station. 

" _Dah-di-dah-dit / di-dit / dah_ ," it beeped, long and short interspersed nonsensically to most listeners.

There was no hope of relaxing now. “Garvey,” he said urgently. “How long has this been happening?”

The sequence repeated.  Preston blinked. “I said to call me Preston.  And I dunno, a week or so?  Happens after every song, but only for a few seconds.  Not a huge deal.”

Except it was.  Because, though ninety-plus percent of the Commonwealth wouldn’t know it just due to the knowledge being lost in time, the beeping was Morse Code and it was repeating the same thing over and over again.

_Dah-di-dah-dit / di-dit / dah._

C.I.T.


	3. Tried to Give You Up, but I'm Addicted

“Fuck, I wanted to punch him so bad.”

Nick raised an eyebrow as they exited the diner that hid the hatch down to where Eddie Winter had been hiding out these last centuries. “Well, you did shoot him. Isn’t that even better?”

“No way.  Punching him would have been imminently more satisfying.  Stupid old piece of shit—did you  _hear_  the way he was talking to you?”

“Kinda hard not to; I’ve got good auditory sensors.”

Nate kicked a can that was in their path hard enough to send it skittering off into the shadows. “I want to go back there and kick him, I’m so mad.  Can I kill him again?  Slower, maybe?  Couple of shots to the kneecaps, give him time to really think about his life’s choices before he bleeds out.”

Nick frowned, tipped his hat back. “Not like you to be so dark, Nate.  Can’t say I like it much.”

“Well, it isn’t like you’ll be properly pissed off on your own behalf, so I have to be twice as indignant for you.  The nerve of that old ass—he makes himself into a ghoul and hangs out underground for centuries but calls  _you_  something less than the person you were back then? The nerve—“

Nick sighed and stopped, watching Nate find more detritus to kick angrily.  It was the middle of the night and nearly dark enough that his visual abilities failed; he could see fine in low light, better than a human, but once it got dark enough he just couldn’t see anything at all. Limits of technology and all that.  He could smell a storm coming.  “Nate, you know better.  I’m not the old Nick. So nothing Winter said was wrong, really.”

“ _Bullshit_ ,” Nate spat, spinning on his heel.  The light from his Pip-boy cast long shadows over his face, made his eyes glint even greener than they were normally. “You may not be biological, but hell if you aren’t a fucking person, Nick.  I’m tired of the self-depreciating crap.  What are any of us but memories and the actions we take?”

Nick rolled his eyes. “I’m a falling apart, junked robot, Nate. Yeah, I can remember chunks of the original Nick’s life, but that doesn’t make me him.”

“Doesn’t it, though?  He was literally converted into you. The way you talked about Jenny tonight, you obviously loved her.  You tell me about what a great partner and friend I am.  You care for people, you have a life, you have a past.  How does any of that make you less of a person?”

Nick raised his bare-metal hand, wiggled his fingers, gestured to the gaping holes in the skin of his neck. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m kind of made of metal.”

“So fucking what?” Nick had rarely seen Nate so angry, likely not since they’d confronted Kellogg back months ago. “And I’m made of squishy shit and bones.  Those things don’t make me a person any more than what you’re made of makes you something.  Our minds, our fucking hearts is what makes us who we are, and you’re a better person than most of the people I’ve met in the entire damned Commonwealth!”  He was gesticulating harshly, shoulders tense, now only a foot or so in front of Nick as he argued.  Nick forced himself to ignore the thrill that went down his metal spine as it always did when Nate was so passionate about something. 

“Hate to break it to you, but I haven’t got a heart or a brain.  I can mimic humanity, but I’ll never be human.”

“You think being human is the only way to be a person?” Nate was crowding him now, and Nick found himself backed against a wall with his processers racing. “You don’t mimic emotion, Nick.  You feel things, you think things, you want things, you live.  The rest of it is just bullshit.”

Nick shook his head. “You’re too optimistic.  Just because I can act like a human—“

He’d never gotten to finish. Lips, warm and chapped, pressed hard against him, Nate’s fingers tangled in his lapels. Nick’s eyes widened and in a moment he processed that he could count the man’s eyelashes this close, see a faint birthmark at the man’s temple that he’d never noticed.  Nate’s eyes were closed with a stubborn set to his brow, pressing against Nick insistently from knee to chest, unwavering.

For just a few moments, Nick was helpless to resist.  He leaned into the man’s warmth and let his eyes close, let his fingers of both metal and flesh tangle in dark hair, allowed the kiss to deepen and pressed his synthetic tongue into Nate’s mouth to experience the texture of it. He’d never done this in his own memory, only had hazy recollections of old Nick’s experiences, and he found it electrifying.  His systems were running at full speed, processors and memory chips cycling harder than they ever had outside of battle, leaving him feeling like his fake skin was alight.

Against his mouth, when he broke away to breathe, Nate was continuing his rant. “I refuse to believe that you’re less than me just because of what you’re made of.  You are too fucking amazing to be considered inferior by  _anyone.”_

Nate pressed forward, hand sliding up to cup Nick’s neck and a thigh pressing between Nick’s legs. The human shuddered in his arms, trying to pull him ever closer. They kissed deep and slow, the full brunt of Nate’s considerable passion being focused on this one task, pouring his frustration and adoration out through his mouth.  Nick seized the man’s lower lip between his teeth and tugged, prompting a whimper.

He flipped them, pressing Nate back into the wall and tugging his hair to change the angle. Nate went willingly, muttering his approval between kisses, a leg hooking over Nick’s own and wrapping around his calf.  Nick pressed his mouth to the hinge of his jaw, his pulse, sucking hard when Nate keened. His fingers dug into the his trench coat, the hard plating at Nick’s back, yanking until he was kissing the human again as deeply as he could manage.

He’d never be totally sure what broke the spell for him.  It wasn’t anything Nate did specifically; every tiny sound and movement only seemed to pull Nick in deeper rather than push him away. There was a thrill for him to know that he was causing such reactions in the man, his own lack of sexual apparatus not keeping him from feeling real pleasure at what he knew he was causing in Nate. The human was ceaselessly pressing closer, gripping and shifting, trying to find ways to get closer than they already were.

Maybe there’d been a gunshot in the distance or a clap of thunder, Nick wasn’t sure.  All he knew is that suddenly he recalled all the reasons this was not okay.  There were dozens, hundreds of reasons why he should not and could not be kissing Nate in the middle of some deserted street, why this had to stop. He slid the fingers he’d had tangled in Nate’s hair down to his shoulders and pushed, firm but not forceful, until Nate broke away with a whining, protesting noise.

Nick frowned and resisted the urge to give in as Nate’s pale eyes fluttered open, glazed and unfocused, his whole body swaying back towards Nick again.  He pushed more firmly to put space between them, stepping back and keeping Nate flat against the brick. “This can’t happen, Nate.”

“Wha?” Nate blinked rapidly, shaking his head a bit as his eyes focused more. “Why in the hell not?”

“Because I said so.”

“Fucking Jesus Christ, Nick.  You weren’t listening to me at all, were you?”

“I can’t avoid hearing you.  I have really good hearing and perfect recall, so yeah, I heard you.  Doesn’t mean you’re not wrong.  Might shock you, but you aren’t always right, Nate.  I say this can’t happen, that I won’t let it happen, and that’s that.”  Nick took several steps back, jamming his hands in his pockets and fiddling with his lighter in his metal fingers to keep himself occupied.  Anything to resist the urge to lay his hands on the man again.

“Being a synth doesn’t make me care for you less, and I know you care about me, too!  You kissed back, you asshole! Why can’t you just accept that I love you for who you are and let yourself have something nice?!”

“Because you have no idea who I am.  You have all sorts of ideas about who you think I am, the human you wish I was, but you’re wrong.  This would be wrong.  And I don’t have to explain myself to refuse you.  I said no; now let’s go. It’s gonna rain and we need to find a camp for the night.”

“So you won’t even discuss this like a fucking adult?”

“Nope, I’m discussing it like the robot I actually am. No.  Negative.  Process not found. Not happening.  Come on. I’m not getting caught in a storm just because you want to stand in the middle of the street and argue.”

Nate protested more, of course, argued hard and nearly violently.  But Nick could only look away and continue on the road, not daring to look back and see the stunned pain in Nate’s expression at the flat dismissal and rejection. But Nick knew they’d just been spending too much time together, that Nate was craving closeness after having all he knew ripped away.  That an old, torn up robot like him didn’t have the capability to give Nate what he really needed, was not the sort to ‘get the girl’ at the end of the story… that reality was just escaping the man at the moment.  His ending was to help Nate find his son and his happiness, not trap him in a relationship where one party could never really be sure he could feel at all.

“Nick…  _I love you_ , damnit.  Doesn’t that—doesn’t that count for anything?”

He refused to answer, didn’t know if he was capable of answering, not around the burn that suffused his chest.  He kept his eyes forward and resisted the urge to turn back, gather Nate back in his arms and kiss him until none of the reasons why they shouldn’t mattered. He kept his eyes forward until Nate’s breathing hitched and his footsteps stuttered, making Nick hate himself just a little as he continued marching on. He tugged his hat low down over his eyes and told himself this was the only decision there was.  Nate would be better for it.  And that was all that mattered.

 

* * *

 

When Piper stormed into Nick’s office at dawn the next morning, she looked visibly startled to find him sitting at his desk. “Well hell, I kind of thought you’d have tried to run off already.”

“Planned on it,” he grumbled, inhaling deeply off his cigarette and continuing his deep search of his hard drive.  He tried to remember if there had ever been a change in musical choices on the Classical station, if he’d ever heard a DJ, if there was any time the broadcast had been interrupted.  He couldn’t think of any information pertaining to it at all other than both the original Nick’s and his own preference for a few songs. “Change of plans.”

“Change of—“ she broke off, closing her eyes and breathing deeply.  She had the bridge of her nose pinched between her thumb and forefinger. “Right, give me a little more info than that, pretty please?”

 He reached back and flicked on the radio, pre-tuned to the Classical radio station.  The song was nearing completion, but they had about a minute. “You ever heard anything about who runs this station?”

She looked puzzled. “No.  I figure someone set it up to run autonomously from an old broadcast station somewhere.”

“Yeah, easy assumption to make.  But see, after years of no changes at all, something’s different now.  Seems that, starting about a week ago, instead of one song leading to another smoothly, a beeping’s started up between tracks.  Just for a few seconds, then another song plays.  Same beeps, repeated twice, between every song.”

“That sounds annoying.”

“Yep.  But not anything to get up in arms over, so we haven’t heard a thing about it.  And since no one knows where in the world this station actually originates from or who runs it, there’s no one to complain to anyway.”

“I don’t get what this has to do with finding Nate.”

“Getting to that.”  The last violin notes faded out on the radio, leaving a brief moment of silence where a new song would usually begin.  But instead, the beeping began. Long, short, long, short; short, long; long.  Repeat.  He watched the confusion on Piper’s face grow as the beeping sounded, finished, and a new track began.  “See? “

She was starting to look impatient now. “Yes?  And?”

“In the old world, getting messages across distances was kind of a big deal.  We had computers and telephones with networks connecting them, postal workers to carry paper letters though it took longer.  But early on, someone invented a method of messaging that had to do with different length beeps.  For a lotta reasons, the military snapped this up and kept using it long after they really needed to, since the telephone and other tech had come along.”

Her eye was ticking.  In a less serious situation, Nick might have had to stifle a grin at the annoyance he was getting out of her. “ _And_?”

“The beeps are a message in that system, that code.  So you tell me, Piper: a week ago, someone on a radio station no one knows the origin of sent out a message in old world Morse code.  Even discounting the time frame, just how many folks in the Commonwealth do you think even know what Morse code is?”

“Blue! Well, then? What does the message say?”

“CIT.  Just that.”

Piper frowned, dropping into the chair across his desk. “What the heck does that mean?”

“There are ruins up across the river of a college.  It was called the Commonwealth Institute of Technology pre-war. I can only assume that he means that.”

“You have no doubt that it’s Blue, then?”

“Not a shred.”

Piper scratched away at a notebook; he wondered if he she was compiling a story already or just organizing her thoughts, as he’d seen her do many times.  “Since the word ‘institute’ is in the name, does that mean that’s where it is?”

Nick shook his head, stubbing out his cigarette. “Nah, not likely. If they were holed up in the ruins of the college they’d have been found years ago.  It’s been picked over and settled by super mutants and raiders many times over the years.”

“But?”

“Not sure yet.  I’m gonna go talk to Daisy in Goodneighbor and see if she remembers better than I do… or pop into the Memory Den and wire myself up.  I need more info on what CIT was to see what the link could be.”

“What can we do while you’re doing that?”

“Ask around.  Anyone who remembers any time that station did anything different, any weird occurances over the years on the CIT grounds.  Whatever you can find; no way of knowing what could be relevant.”

“Will do.  You’ll come back and check in after Goodneighbor, right?  You won’t just run off somewhere if you get information?”

He couldn’t promise that.  Wouldn’t. “I’ll come back if at all possible.”

She scowled and rolled her eyes. “You’re taking someone with you at least, right?”

“Yeah; not gonna let Deacon kick around here without supervision.  Might need his contacts anyway if we get a lead.”

“Be careful, Nick.”

“I’ll do my best.”

 

* * *

 

“Damn, have you hit that?  With that face?  Gives me hope for the rest of us if even you can pull a chick like that.”

Deacon picked at his teeth as they walked towards the stairs, making irritated noises in his throat.  After a few moments of silence he glanced over, meeting Nick’s glare. “What?”

“You’re an ass, kid.”

“S’not like I meant it like that, Valentine.  Shit, look at me; I don’t even remember what I look like naturally anymore.  I had freckles though.  I am  _ginger_.  That should tell you something.”

“Like I give a crap about you insulting my looks.  This mug ain’t gonna win any beauty pageants, lemme tell you.  Talking about Irma like that isn’t on, though.  She’s a fine lady, don’t go disparaging her.”

“Damn, sorry Mister White Knight.  Just teasing.”

Nick rolled his eyes and continued down to Amari’s basement lab, knocking on the open doorframe. She glanced up from a clipboard as he entered, a polite smile on her face. “Mister Valentine, good to see you. It has been a while.” She glanced behind him at Deacon, who was looking around with interest. “I suppose, since you are not alone, that this isn’t a pleasure visit?”

He heard Deacon grumble, “Damn, do all the women here have to talk like that to him?” in an undertone, but he ignored him.

“Nah, though I do need you to wire me up, Doc.  Specifically need to look into any information old Nick might have had on the Commonwealth Institute of Technology.  CIT.”  Daisy had had a roommate who had attended the school but had never been on the grounds herself, so she hadn’t been able to help.

Amari frowned and set aside her clipboard, leaning a hip against the counter. “You know I don’t approve of using the technology like this.  You have to be in there for far longer than is recommended to comb for small, unknown facts like that.”

“It isn’t like I need to eat or drink, Doc.  I can’t starve myself in there.  What’s the harm?  I come out thinking I’m human for a few minutes?  Big whoop; a glance in the mirror will fix that right up.”

Her frown made deep lines bracket her mouth. “Detective…”

“It’s important, Amari.  Nate’s gone missing.”

That surprised her. “He struck me as especially crafty.  Are you sure he didn’t just get caught up on a mission?”

“Nah, Courser got him,” said Deacon, picking up a vial from the counter and holding it up to the light. “So apparently we’re running into the Institute.  Hooray.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” she said, alarmed.  Her eyes met Nick’s before flicking back to the modified memory pod she used for synths, an uncertain moue on her face.  “Are you sure this is necessary, Mister Valentine?”

“I am.”

Once she’d been convinced, it only took a few minutes for her to prepare him.  Her skilled fingers were gentle on his wiring, calloused fingers brushing the back of his neck in apology the one time she had yanked.  “You need to come in for maintenance soon.  You have some frays here, and the casing of your spinal bundle is damaged a bit.”

“Once I get a spare minute to breathe I’ll try to remember to, thanks.”

Deacon was sitting on a stool, fingers tapping against the edges. “You need me for anything?  I think I’m gonna head back to the Railroad for a bit if this will take a while.  I need to update the boss on the search and make sure I’m kitted out.”

“He’ll be under for at least the evening,” Amari said, standing and cracking her back.

“Yeah, go ahead.  Meet me back here tomorrow, though, if you want to see this through.”

He laid back in the lounger, head cocked to one side to keep from disrupting the connections.  Amari stood at his feet, hands on her hips and frown still deep. “Be safe, Mister Valentine.  Try not to focus on any one memory too deeply, and if you could try to avoid anything irrelevant to your search you will be better off.  You’re a special case, as you know.  The memories being both yours and not makes for a dangerous dissonance. I do not wish to see you lose any of who you are due to the past.  Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.  I’m ready.”

“Creator help you, Detective.”

The whoosh of the pod was quiet, easily ignored next to the crackle of foreign electricity against him.  He closed his eyes and fiddled with his hat where it laid in his lap, waiting for the connection.

“Nick? Baby, is that you?”

He closed the door behind him, shrugging out of his jacket. “Expecting someone else, sweetheart?”

“In the kitchen!”

He could smell the leftover minestrone from the night before being reheated.  It made his mouth water.  Jenny stood at the stove in a robe, stirring the pot.  As he entered, she grinned over her shoulder, one braid having fallen from the knot of them on her head to lie against her cheek. “Welcome home, super sleuth.  How was work?”

“Boring.  I need a new case before I go crazy.  I was not made to be a desk jockey.”

He walked forward and pressed a kiss to her bared shoulder where the robe had slipped.  With interest, he looked down the front of her to note she must have gotten out of the shower recently; she hadn’t bothered with anything  _but_ the robe.  “Well now, what have we here?”

She swatted at him, using her hip to try and nudge him away.  “Oh no, baby.  I’m eating then going out with the girls, no distractions!”

“Aww, but where’s the fun in that?”

He smiled against the fragrant, dark skin of her neck, closing his eyes.  Peace overwhelmed him.

“Mister Valentine.  This…” a sigh echoed. “This is what I meant.  Come on, you wanted to search for information, right?”

Nick’s eyes snapped open. Jenny, still warm and in his arms, was frozen in place, salt grains halted in midair where she’d been sprinkling a pinch into the soup.  Reality swarmed over him.  Right.  Jenny was hundreds of years dead.  The sensation of both watching the scene and being a part of the scene was jarring; it always was in the Memory Den.  He watched the human Nick tangled around the frozen memory of Jenny, taking in her dear, round face and shining brown eyes.  He looked away. “Right, sorry Doc.”

“Come, Detective.”  Her voice was sympathetic and soft.  Nick moved quickly to escape feeling pitied.

He moved on from the memory, instead trying to access his root directories and branch out from there.  He needed information.  CIT had been one of the most prestigious schools in the area at one time and hardly a mile or two from the precinct Nick had worked.  He had to have something relevant to the place in his memories, whether organic or binary.  He passed a glimpse of Nick on one knee before Jenny in a park, a Christmas scene when he’d been a child with his mother, a Raider camp he’d stumbled into when he was newly woken post-war. 

He needed to concentrate on relevant memories. Focusing his considerable processing power, he found Nick alone in the station he’d worked, head in his hands and paper stacked all around his desk; a serial killer had been targeting young co-eds around the Boston area.  Twelve had died before they’d caught him, two having been students at CIT.  But he’d never gone to the school itself for that case, so Nick moved on.

He wondered what college Nate had gone to, where he’d worked once he’d gotten out of the Army.  If the original Nick and he had ever crossed paths.

He caught a glimpse of Nate tugging him by the metal hand, trying to make him dance late at night in Sanctuary.  Damn him.  He needed to stop getting distracted. 

“Ah, I think I’ve found something at least tangentially relevant.  Is this helpful?”

He let Amari lead him into another memory, this one at a burger joint with a man Nick recalled was another detective he had worked with.  He let the memory consume him; the salt of the fries, the warmth of the heat cranked to keep the winter chill out.  He—well, the original Nick was laughing, napkin pressed to his mouth.  Nick stepped back to observe.

“That’s what you get, Johnson.”

The man flicked a fry Nick, landing it on his head.  Nick scowled and batted it off, smoothed his dark hair. “Hey now, I have to interview witnesses later.  Don’t mess up the ‘do.”

“You’re just gonna mess it up when you put that stupid hat over it, Valentine. “

“Stop being jealous,” Nick said, grinning and motioning at the receding hairline of his coworker.

“Ah,” Amari’s voice returned, the scene freezing. “This was not the memory I intended.  I apologize.  We’re near, however, temporally.  The same man and location but—“

The scene rearranged before him.  It was cool now, air conditioners pumping freezing air to keep out the summer heat.  Johnson sat across from him at the same table, burgers in baskets in front of each of them.  But the man was frowning this time and Nick himself felt exhausted, heavy.  Looking at the face of the man he had once been, dark circles lined his brown eyes, the once impeccably slicked back dark hair was ragged and curling, in need of a trim.  Stubble was thick at his jaw and the Nick that was observing knew this memory was doubtlessly closer to the end of things.

Johnson fiddled with a napkin, worry clear on his face. “Nick, we need to talk.”

Nick scowled. “We damn well don’t.  I’m sick of talking about it.”

“I didn’t mean—not about Winter or Jenny.  I know you don’t wanna talk about that.  I mean about what Captain Widmark has been hounding you for.  Going down to the eggheads.”

“Like I told the Captain, I don’t see the point. I don’t need my head shrunk or whatever they do there.”

“Nick…”

He glared hard at the man, dropping the burger he hadn’t taken a bite of. “What, Will?  What?  You think I’m losing it?  You think I’m in trouble? You bet your ass I am.  My fucking fiancé gets killed and I have to watch the bastard walk.  Who  _wouldn’t_ be in trouble from that?  I don’t need a bunch of undergrads at CIT to tell me that.”

“But it isn’t the students.  I—“ Johnson paused, scrubbing a hand over his thinning hair. “You’re my best pal, Nicky.  I want what’s best for you.  When the Captain came to me to see if I could talk sense into you—“

“He did what?!”

“—I wanted to actually see what he was sending you to before saying anything.  I went down there.  They have this huge, freaky subterranean facility that is like walking into the future, it’s so advanced.  The program they want you to try, it’s something with brainwaves and modulation of emotions.  They can help dull some of the bad stuff, Nicky.  It isn’t lying on a couch and talking, it’s real science shit.”

Nick was silent, mouth flat and firm.  He stared across the table for long seconds before sighing. “If I go talk to them will you leave me be?”

“Never.  But I think you should anyway.”

The memory froze and Doctor Amari’s voice was thoughtful. “Interesting. If I’m right, then—“

Nick followed the path she left him, finding himself in a room that looked like a hospital suite.  Floors gleamed white in a way nothing in the Commonwealth did these days, and Nick the human was laid on a reclining chair with pads and wires attaching him to machinery.  Nick as he was felt a bit ill seeing the parallels.

“One moment, Mister Valentine.  You shouldn’t feel any pain, but tell me if you experience anything beyond discomfort.”

Amari’s voice overlaid the continuing explanation of the woman in a labcoat. “Yes, I was correct. These people at the Institute of Technology are the ones that created you, Nick.  This is the beginning of the memory chain leading to your time in the Institute.”

Nick nodded, watching the scene. “I figured as much.  So the Institute was under the CIT grounds, then, back before the bombs?”

“Indeed.  Whether they are still there or not I cannot say… but this is where they started.  Shall I begin the disconnection procedure?”

“One moment.”  He knew he shouldn’t, but Nick concentrated on Nate, on the memory he’d passed earlier of the man trying to make him dance.  Nate’s laugh rang around him as he took in the scene, watching himself from a distance while feeling Nate’s hand around his own at the same time.  The bare metal didn’t feel things like the flesh hand did, but he had the most basic of sensors for control there.  It was so rarely touched that it felt strange when Nate enveloped it in one of his wide, rough palms.

“Come on, Nick!” Nate was saying, tugging at him where he sat in a chair near the weapon’s bench. “I really love this song.  I know you know how to dance.”

“And just how do you figure that?”

“Because every man as suave as you learned to dance back in the sixties and seventies.” He was grinning wide, that charming smile that Nick had craved so dearly before he’d forced himself not to. “No way that you don’t know how.”

Nick sighed, pretending to be put upon, before standing and grabbing Nate by the hip with his other, flesh hand. “Fine, but you’re letting me lead.”

“I wouldn’t expect otherwise.”

Nate’s laugh was joyous and simple as Nick spun him around the room, purposefully stepping on his toes at times to make him grin.  He dipped him as the song ended and relished in the flush that suffused Nate’s cheeks as he held him there.

“Do I pass?”

The human sounded breathless from laughter and exhilaration both. “Always, Valentine.”

The observing Nick turned away and closed his eyes. Damn his cowardice. “Ready to disconnect, Doc.”

It looked like he was off to the CIT ruins after all.  He just hoped with every resistor and capacitor on his multitude of circuit boards that Nate was still there to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Approaching the real mid-game spoilers now. So, for real. Please don't read this if you don't know. I hate that I had it accidently spoiled with a summary someone made (though,m of course, being a gamer I already had my suspicions from the opening scenes). Don't let me spoil you.
> 
> Thank you guys for all your support. I'll be finally replying to comments tomorrow to give my love personally. ♥


	4. Had Recurring Nightmares That I Was Loved for Who I Am

“Thanks so much, Detective!  And may I say: we’re really glad you’re back.”

Nick gave an approximation of a smile, fingers clenching under his desk. “My pleasure, Miss DeLuth.”  He couldn’t bring himself to agree with her about being back in Diamond City.

She slipped out the door, heirloom pistol he’d recovered in hand, and Nick lit a cigarette in the silence that followed.  The radio droned quietly from Ellie’s desk where she was doing paperwork, the quiet way she hummed under her breath and the clack of her typewriter familiar background noise.

He flipped open the next case file in the stack she’d left for him, glancing over the details. Suspected cheating spouse.  He sighed needlessly, raised his flesh hand to rub at his forehead.  How had he spent over a decade doing cases like this?  Or, perhaps more appropriately, how was he no longer content with just that?

He flipped through the next few in the stack to see what cases could be worked on simultaneously.  He made piles based on urgency and probable overlap of location or informants.  He wound up with four that were both important enough to be looked into right away and likely to have at least some chance of intersection, memorizing the details as he stood.

“Be back later on, El.”

“I’ll probably be gone.  I have a date tonight.”

He glanced over his shoulder, brow raised.  The part of him who was both a detective and thought of her as his child wanted to interrogate her, but years with the girl had taught him that wouldn’t actually get results. 

When he didn’t reply, she glanced up, rolling her eyes. “No, I won’t tell you who.  Or where.  Or when.  I don’t need you tailing me all evening.”

He opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off, a smile twitching her lips. “I know you, Nick.  Now shoo.”

He considered staying near the agency to follow her anyway, just to prove he could do it unobtrusively, but he really did need to follow up on the cases he’d set aside.  The stack of backlog that had accumulated while he was traveling with Nate had been almost overwhelming.  He shrugged on his jacket and adjusted his hat. “Just be safe, will ya?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m an adult, Nick.  I’ll be fine.”

The door opened as he reached for the handle.  He glanced up reflexively to meet startled pale green eyes and froze.  It had been nearly two weeks since he’d seen Nate, since the end of the Eddie Winter case, the kiss, and Nate’s subsequent acceptance of his request for time apart.  Nick tried not to regret everything about that day.  Nate looked the same as ever – Nick reminded himself that humans didn’t actually change much in a mere few weeks, no matter how long they seemed.

He stepped back and forced on a smile. “Well hello there, stranger.”

“Hey, Nick.”

He made his way back to his desk to put some space between them, catching Ellie’s raised eyebrow as he glanced her way.  He ignored her.  He sat, snuffing out his cigarette and waving his flesh-covered hand. “Come on in.  Sit.”

Nate did, though on the desk rather than in the chair, eyes flicking from Nick’s eyes and away again.  The angle allowed him to not meet Nick’s eyes without looking like he was avoiding them.  A man followed him in, a reedy sort of guy in layers, rifle slung loose over his shoulder.  Nick watched the man glance at him, meeting his eyes then flicking to his neck, a subtle tension shifting in his shoulders.  So Nate hadn’t bothered with the whole ‘by the way, he’s a robot’ talk.  Not the brightest sometimes, his Nate.

“What brings you here, Dollface?”  He almost flinched at the reflexive, long-standing, affectionate nickname.  But then, he’d never denied his feelings for the man, just that they were something that could be acted upon. 

Nate still wasn’t meeting his eyes, but his smile was at least passably genuine in response. “Nothing much.  Just wanted to check in with you, see if there was any news I should know about, and to ask for a favor.  We ended up back here for resupplying, so I wanted to pop in on you and Piper while I was here.”

“Nothing you need to worry about, at least.  Been keeping an ear out for anything useful, of course, but it’s been pretty quiet around these parts.  Quiet for Diamond City anyway.”

“No good cases?”

Nick snorted. “Not yet anyway.  Most folks knew I was outta town, though, so there might still be some that they’re keeping under wraps to bring to me personally.  Right now I’m just working through the backlog of ‘oh no, my cat is missing’ or ‘my wife leaves at odd hours, I think she’s cheating on me.’”

“How fun.  I bet you’re having a blast.”  Nick huffed a laugh.  “Anyway, I just wanted to pop in before we head out again.  I need you to keep an ear out for me, if you could.”

Nick traced the man’s features with his eyes, regretful and hating that he’d damaged them so irreparably that Nate couldn’t even look at him.  He forced himself to remember why he’d done it.  It had only been two weeks; hopefully a few more would make Nate move past this, get them back to how they were.  That the idea of Nate getting over his affection made his internals ice over was irrelevant. “Of course.  What should I keep tuned in for?”

“MacCready, my friend here,” he waved his hand back at the man who still stood just inside the door, uncomfortable and stiff, “has been having trouble with the Gunners.  We’ve taken some, uhh, rectifying action, but I’m worried there will be retaliation.  Just keep an ear out for any mention of him or me linked with Gunners or Raiders, please?”

“How worried are you?” Nick said with a frown, gesturing with his metal hand and not missing how MacCready’s eyes narrowed and followed it. “Should I be worried you’re going to end up ambushed while you’re out there?”

Nate’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at his mouth.  He still didn’t look at Nick, but he grabbed Nick’s flesh one where he had been tapping the desk, squeezing it. “Don’t worry about me; I just want to be informed.”

Nick managed to restrict himself to one return squeeze and a stroke of his thumb along the tendons. “Just be careful out there, Dollface.”

“You know I always am.”

He snorted, letting Nate release his hand. “Right.  That’s what you call your wonderful habit of running toward the sound of gunfire and your refusal to leave well enough alone?”

“Fuc—Great, so that’s not just with me, then?”  Nick glanced up to meet the exasperated expression on MacCready’s face.

“Dunno where he picked you up, but yeah, I’m betting he didn’t give you the fine print.  Nate’s a magnet for trouble, mostly because he can’t ever turn down a chance to help someone out.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.”  He’d nearly forgotten Ellie was still at her desk.  She approached them and leaned over Nick, one hand on his shoulder. “Hi there, I’m Detective Valentine’s assistant Ellie.  Nice to meet you.”

MacCready turned slightly pink and took her hand in a shake. “Err, yes, nice to meet ya.”

Ellie’s hand on his collarbone squeezed. “Hey there, Nate.  We’ve missed you around here.”

“Ah well, you know…”

Her smile was sharp. “Well, no, I don’t know.  Someone has been highly reticent.  But I’m sure you’ve had your reasons for going completely away so suddenly.”  Nate cringed at the chiding in her tone.

“That’s enough, El.  If it was your business in the slightest, I’d have told you,” he grumbled, uncomfortable and sinking in his chair.

“Sorry to not be around as much, but I’ll come around to check in every week or so. If you want to know more about why, ask your boss.” Nate’s voice had a hard edge that made Nick sink lower, taking his eyes off the man’s face deliberately for the first time since he entered the office.

Ellie was looking back and forth between them, an expression on her face like understanding dawning.  She slapped Nick upside the head, making him duck and curse. “Damnit, Ellie—“

“Ah.”  The wealth of meaning in the one word made him grimace.  “I think I had things backwards with how much moping has been going on in this office lately.  Thank you, Nate.  You come by whenever you have time, dear.  We really do miss you.  Certain detectives are useless when you’re not around.”  She leaned forward over Nick’s shoulder to peck Nate on the cheek.

“Now see here—“

“Do we need to talk about just how much of an idiot you are with Nate right here, Nick?”

He pressed his hand to his face. “Stay out of it, Ellie.”

“Don’t worry,” Nate said softly. “Time heals all wounds, right?”

Nick peeked between his fingers and spied MacCready looking at all of them with high confusion. Well, at least his dirty laundry wasn’t being aired completely to a total stranger.  Not that any person in their right mind would jump to the idea that someone as lovely and charismatic as Nate thought he was in love with a junky old synth.  Ellie just knew him too well, and knew Nate too well consequently.  Damn her intuition.  He’d thought she’d been a bit too lenient in the last weeks. 

He had a feeling that was going to change now that she’d apparently been enlightened.

“Anyway,” Nate said with false cheer, standing. “I’ll pop back in soon to make sure you haven’t heard anything, all right?  We’re off to clear out some ghouls for a bounty.”

“Good luck to you,” Ellie said, her hand still resting on Nick’s shoulder.  “Get back to us safe.”

Nate smiled to her and dropped his eyes to Nick’s, finally looking right at him. “You guys too, okay?”

“Yeah.  Watch your back.”

With a clunk the door swung shut, leaving a moment of silence but for the radio in the background.  Nick listened to the progress of the two men away from the agency, MacCready questioning Nate on what the argument had been about and Nate evading.  He was pulled from his eavesdropping when Ellie sighed.

“So, I’d been under the impression that your infatuation wasn’t returned or something, boss.”

“Have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.”  There was pity in her voice and in her eyes when he glanced up at her, leaving his chest feeling tight.  “You’re the bravest man I’ve ever known, Nick.  But I suppose even you can be scared when your heart is involved, huh?”

He scoffed, eyes on the door.  “Scared has nothing to do with it.  He’s better off.”

“Is he really?” she asked as she went back to her desk, upping the volume on the radio.  Nick sat for long minutes, giving time for Nate to no longer be in town before he left himself, hands jammed in his pockets and collar turned up.  It wasn’t just that he was _scared_.  There was so much more to it that Ellie didn’t, couldn’t understand. 

The terror he felt at the idea of giving in to Nate (and the subsequent loss of him, no matter how soon or eventual) was the least of it.  Really.

 

* * *

 

 “I really think we need to go back,” Deacon said warily, climbing over the barricade of desks that Nick had scaled. “Get the others.  What good’s a whole team of experienced people if we’re not gonna use them?”

“Don’t see how a team is going to help when we’re just scouting.”

“Yeah, but…” the man trailed off, cursing as he tripped over the remains of an old chair. “This place creeps me out, man.  It’s obvious _nothing_ has gotten down here in decades or longer.”

He was right.  They’d been exploring the CIT grounds when Nick had used his memories of the past to locate where a staircase had been.  There had been a building collapsed on top of it, but his lack of tiring and a close examination of the structure of the debris had let him carefully pull away enough to make a path without collapsing the pile any worse.  They’d then had to go through three debris barricades and five barred doors to reach any sort of open space, leaving Nick to believe they were on the right track.  If there was information to be found, this was likely one of the few places where it could be.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about.  If nothing can get in, we’re in the clear.”

Deacon sighed. “You’re gonna get yourself killed with that much foolhardiness.”

“I’ve survived this long, haven’t I?”

They rounded a corner and a whir was all the warning he had.  “Get back!” Nick shouted, shoving the human behind him and taking aim at the turret that had activated on the ceiling.  He took a glancing blow to the shoulder, singeing his jacket.  Three true shots caused it to explode, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.

“Damn; I’m always surprised when old tech survives long enough to be a problem in places like this,” Deacon said with a wheeze, picking himself up from where he’d fallen.

But Nick wasn’t listening.  He’d heard the distinct sound of shuffling footsteps not far off when the explosion had tapered off; he signaled for silence from his companion and crept forward, eyes glancing in every corner for a disruption in the dust that hadn’t come from them.

The hall was lit only by the flashlight Deacon held, but it was enough light for Nick to see by. He walked as silently as he could to the next doorway down the hall, back pressed to the frame as he peeked around it.  There.  A shadow was being cast by a chair behind a desk that was misshapen.  He flicked the safety back off on his gun and aimed to where the lump hid. “Whoever or whatever you are, stand up or I’ll shoot and ask questions after.”

 “ _Nick_?”

The relief flowed through him like ice had been funneled into his cooling systems before he’d even really registered the voice. He felt like every fake muscle in his body had turned to water in his relief, leaving him limp and sagging. “Good god, Nate?!”

The human popped up from his crouch behind the desk and stared, mouth moving soundlessly as he tried and failed to speak.  Nick expanded his senses to be sure there was nothing else before he approached with little grace, clambering over debris to round the desk.  He’d not gotten within arm’s length before Nate was moving, barreling forward and into him, hands clenched into the back of Nick’s trenchcoat as he buried his face into his neck. “Oh god, you’re actually here,” Nate babbled, arms tight around Nick’s torso.

“Of course I am, you idiot.  Was coming to rescue you; seems you managed that on your own, though.  How did you get away?”

Nate didn’t seem to be in a position to answer, still babbling uselessly against Nick’s neck.  He was shaking, Nick noted as he wrapped his arms around the human in turn, lightly scratching his metal fingers through the man’s dark hair. “God, Nick, I’m so sorry. I was stupid to be upset at you; I never should have risked our friendship like that. I’ve spent the last weeks worrying I’d never be able to take it back.  I’m so sorry, I’m just glad to know you, I shouldn’t have pushed—“

Nick cupped the human's jaw and tilted his face up to him, taking in the dear, familiar face and damp eyes.  He cut off the stream of twaddle with his lips, feeling a bit of pleased vengeance in the action after the circumstances of their first kiss. He took advantage of Nate's surprise to deepen the kiss immediately, pulling him firmly against him.  He could feel Nate's heart thrumming in his chest, the quiver of his muscles; he relished in the reflexive clench of his fingers at the small of Nick's back, swallowed down the gratifying groan that Nate gave as he finally caught up to the situation.

The franticness with which Nate kissed back was electrifying.  He seemed intent on devouring Nick, sucking at his lower lip and sliding his tongue over metal teeth.  Electrifying was a good descriptor; it was like his wiring was alight, sparks igniting his sensory receptors and leaving him wishing for tastebuds as the man's tongue slid wetly against his own. 

As Nate broke away to gasp for air, Nick pressed his mouth to his temple. “I'm the one who's sorry,” he murmured, tightening the arm that had stayed wrapped around the man’s waist. “I was being a coward and nearly let you get away thinking I didn’t adore you.  I’d be a damn fool if I could have nearly lost you like this and not woken up.”

"Fuck, Nick..."

God, but he’d been so terrified he’d never see the man alive again.  The relief was overwhelming.  He kissed him again and again, flesh fingers tight at the hinge of his jaw.

A very loud and very fake cough had them breaking apart, only Nate’s unrelenting grip on Nick’s back keeping them from physically separating altogether.

“Huh.  No one mentioned this bit.  Might have been relevant info to give me, Valentine.”  Deacon was leaning in the doorframe, peering over the top of his ridiculous sunglasses.  “But then again, it rather explains the whole ‘choke the messenger’ thing you had going when I first told you he was taken. Can’t say I understand your taste, Charmer, but more power to you.  Glad to see you alive and well.”

“Deacon?” Nate looked back and forth between them. “How in the world did you two end up together?”

“Funny story, that.  When my idiot partner went and landed himself in the arms of a Courser, I went to the best detective in the Commonwealth.  Ended up with some bruises ringing my neck for my trouble, but I met up with a band of very loyal crazies who were hellbent on getting said partner back.”

“You choked him?” Nate said wryly, finally letting go of Nick to scrub at his eyes and try to regain equilibrium.  “I know he’s a pain in the ass, but isn’t that an overreaction?”

“Might not have been in my right mind at the moment, being half crazy with worry as I was.”  He focused his eyes on Nate and scowled. “Don’t you ever do something as stupid as getting captured again, you hear me? I thought I was going to burn out my hard drive.”

“It isn’t like I did it on _purpose_ ,” Nate snarked, a hand rising to cup Nick’s face. “There's so much I need to tell you guys.  Fuck, but I’m glad to see you.”

“Sad day when someone’s happy to see this mug.”  Nate used the hand to slap at Nick’s cheek, but kept it there after and stroked a thumb across his cheekbone.  Nick closed his eyes for a moment and tried to process his overwhelming emotions at the moment.

“Hate to break up the happy reunion there, guys, but I really wanna get out of his creepy place, comprende?  Let’s save the storytelling and sappiness for when we’re as far from here as we can get.”

Nick nodded, cupping his hand against Nate’s to pull it away from his face but keeping a grip on it. “We’ve spent ages just trying to locate you; we figured we’d have to storm the Institute itself. How in the hell did you get out on your own?”

“He thought he found an unguarded, old escape tunnel.”

The new voice had them all spinning back towards what Nick had assumed was just a boarded up office, weapons out and aiming.  An older man in a white labcoat stood clean and stark against the murk of the dirty room, two identical men with laser rifles flanking him.  Synths for sure, by the blank cast to their eyes.

Nate’s voice was like he’d been gargling glass, broken and choked.  The tone hit him long before the words, making Nick’s eyes flick momentarily to the human he adored with worry.  “Shaun, _please_ don’t do this—“

Nick’s eyes widened as the actual words finally hit home.  Did Nate say _Shaun_?  But he’d hardly even processed that thought when the elder man’s eyes were honing in on him, a familiar green (6fe052 with an inner ring of 96cd32) making his circuits short out. His voice was laced with disgust. “I see now why you were so resistant to my life’s work, Father.  How… tragic.  But no matter.”

“No, Shaun, I’m sorry, I’ll come back—“

“M1-72, capture the human.  Alive if possible.  Prototype 2b-epsilon, recall code three-two-zeta.”

And Nick knew nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I wish I could say that I hadn't intended to leave it like that. But I did. That was actually the first scene I wrote for this fic.
> 
> I tested it on my daughter (12 going on 30, giant nerd and slash reading mini-me) and her shrieking of how I was a terrible person told me I'd at least done something right. Or horribly wrong, either way.


	5. How can we win when fools can be kings?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is choppy and almost all dialog, but hopefully even without the tags it isn't too hard to tell who is talking when it's important.

“—booting him up now. I cannot give you any answers without at least taking a peek at his coding.”

“Don’t you dare harm him! Please, I’ll do anything.”

“This is utterly remarkable,” the first voice was muttering, volume fading in and out as he moved, interspersed with a terminal’s keyboard. “I can’t believe that they disposed of this model. His autonomy, his grasp of self and environment... he is truly a marvel! The code seems so basic and the language is outmoded entirely, but judging by what I’ve seen of his behavior he’s fascinating. In some ways, he even surpasses our Generation 3 models, though physically of course he is quite inferior.”

“Fascinating though that is, Doctor Binet, it isn’t answering my question. Can it be ported?” another voice drawled.

“We’re going to have to run tests, I can’t be sure. I’m having trouble even mirroring his hard drives with the frankly excessive safety protocols programmed in. If I could do a full wipe it would be simple, though of course that would defeat the purpose.”

“No, let’s try to leave it intact. We shall try to avoid rewriting or modification of its base systems if possible.”

“Damned right you’ll avoid it! You delete a single file from him and I’ll raze this place to the ground—“ That voice was familiar. Rough with worry but dear and known nonetheless. Nick – and he was certainly Nick, he knew that much at least, however little else he knew – struggled to understand what was happening.

“Please calm down, Father. As I said, we will avoid making any irreversible changes to the unit.”

“You want me to _calm down_? You take two of the people most important to me and hold them hostage and you want me to calm down?!”

“To be fair, only one is a person. The other is a defective piece of technology that predates even my time here. Were this situation any different, we would simply reclaim the technology and call it a failed experiment gone awry.”

The bellow that followed was one of pure rage. “You will not talk about him that way! And he is not an _it!_ ”

“Father, please. You’re being highly irrational. I realize you have some sort of attachment to this unit, but you need to see reason. It is a creation. It is not a person.” A choked sound, following by the voice wheezing. “Please unhand me. I would hate to need to call in security. The prototype would be unlikely to survive intact.”

“No! Please, Shaun, stop this. I told you, I’ll stay.” Desperation suffused the voice now. “I’ll stop trying to escape, I swear! Just let him and Deacon go; they have nothing to do with you.”

“No? One is Institute property, if not outdated, and the other is part of a faction that’s sole purpose is to steal from me. I think they both have very much to do with me. But we can come to an understanding.”

“Why are you doing this? Why?”

“It became obvious very quickly that you were resistant to the ideals I have striven for all my life. When I decided to bring you to me rather than wait for you to come yourself, I had hoped I was quick enough to keep the Railroad’s naïve ideals from interfering with our relationship. I see now, however, that your prior associations had already poisoned you against me. But with this… incentive, I hope we can see more clearly eye to eye. I just want us to be able to work _together_.”

The silence following was long, and Nick tried to open his eyes. To move his head. To raise a hand. He couldn’t. He could not move in the slightest. It felt like his reactor was offline or his RAM had been knocked out and left only his audio capabilities functional; he couldn’t compute a simple math problem let alone try to reason out what was happening. He could recognize Nate, knew Nate was important, but trying to reason out anything further was beyond him.

“Damn you, Shaun. I can’t believe you would do this.”

“I hope to help you understand my position later, Father. For now, the Institute must come first, no matter how little I wish to harm you… even emotionally. Now, so long as we can work together, I see no reason that this prototype need have any harm done to its programming.”

“Fine. Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Excellent. Let’s go to my office and discuss the details, then. Binet, please continue your work here. Call in Doctor Li if you need further assistance. See that the prototype is unharmed.”

“Yes, Director.”

“Wait, I don’t want to leave him!”

“He is in good hands. And don’t you wish to check in on your other friend?”

Low, angry cursing. “Fine. Just—fine. You have no idea what you’re doing, Shaun. This is… if Nick comes to harm…”

The original voice again, low and soothing. “Sir, if I may? If anything goes wrong or I have questions or concerns I will have you summoned. Will that ease your mind?”

“That there’s a chance of things going wrong? No. But I suppose it’s as good as it will get.”

“Very good. Please, come with me, Father. I hope to mend this rift between us. I know you are angry with me, but I really just want you to understand.”

“I’ll do what needs to be done to ensure—“

* * *

If it weren’t for the sudden silence, he might not have realized time had passed. But the complete quiet and surety that there was only one person in the room told him he had lost at least several minutes. Silence reigned for a time but for the soft breathing of one person and the occasional tick-tick-tick of a keyboard being typed on. It might have been moments, it might have been hours; Nick’s comprehension of anything beyond who he was was shaky at best. Eventually, a new voice wafted in from a distance.

“Alan? Alan, are you in here?”

“Lab 5!”

A swish of a door preceded a startled exclamation. “Oh, that’s… what is he?”

“A prototype. Apparently from just before they found Father and were able to cement the biotechnology for your generation. I’m assuming, anyway; I hope there are some dev files in the root of his file structure to help elaborate. But first I have to get through this encryption.”

“Would you like assistance, love?”

“No, I’m fine, Eve. Thank you.”

“Do you have a preference for dinner? There are several new food packet configurations that I was told are considered pleasing.”

“Let Liam choose. He’s been a bit distant lately.”

“We should talk soon. I overheard him arguing with another scientist about me. We must remind him of the folly of it.”

“It isn’t a folly to defend you, Eve. You’re his mother.”

“And yet, they all know I am simply her replacement.”

The man sighed. “You’re right, we do need to talk. As a family. But this is a very important project, so I may be late. This prototype—he’s apparently very important to Father’s father. The Director’s father, that is. When they came in, he was carrying the prototype and cursing at the Director – at the _Director_ – for daring to harm him. He seemed very attached.”

“Do you blame him?”

“I might have, not so long ago.”

The woman hummed. “You are a good man, Alan.”

The sound of something metal being set on something else that was metal echoed near Nick’s ear. The tapping of a keyboard resumed. “I’ve got it! This gets me into his—“

* * *

“—please, Doctor Binet. You love your wife, don’t you? Even though she’s a synth?”

The voice of the man was highly uncomfortable. “You must know—“

“Please don’t think you have to lie to me.” Nate’s voice was soft and so very near. “Just—talking to Liam and seeing you with her, you must love her. Don’t you?”

“I do,” the man finally said, soft and hesitant.

“Can’t you understand why I am fighting this? His name is Nick. I love him more than I thought it was possible to love someone after my wife was killed. I don’t want to lose him.” Nick tried again to open his eyes without success. Nate was so near that he should be able to feel the warmth of him, his breath on Nick’s cheek. There was nothing. “If you change who he is, I might as well have.”

“Father seems to only wish for your happiness. If you just give him what he wants—“

* * *

“—got it! Grab him, Deacon. Come on, go go go…”

The sound of running footsteps, echoing in a small enclosed space. A twin set of heavy breathing. “Fucking hell, Charmer, this was not well planned out.”

“The fuck did you want me to do? Leave you two? No goddamned way.” Shuffling steps and the sound of large objects moving. “All right, this should slow them down at least a little bit. Here, give him to me. Be on point. If we get cornered, I’ll distract them and you fucking run, you got it?” 

“You want me to leave you here?!”

“If it means you get out, then yes, damnit.”

“I know I’m a damned liar ninety-nine percent of the time, Nate, but I wasn’t joking when I said you were the first person who’s been this close to me in years. You can’t ask me to just ditch you.”

“Yeah, I can. Because you’ll be able to tell the others. It’s been nearly two weeks since you two got stuck in here with me; the others have to be frantic. I’m not saying to ditch me if there’s a choice, just that you need to take the chance to get out if you can, even if it means leaving me.”

“God damnit.”

The sound of a firing laser rifle had both the men cursing, running again. “Shit, shit, shit, the ducts—“

“Surrender immediately. Please stop moving so I may target you more accurately,” said the mechanic voice of a synth. 

“Go, Deacon!”

The sounds that followed overloaded his audio sensors. There were explosions, twin cursing from the familiar voices of Deacon and Nate, guns and laser rifles and screams both mechanic and biological. And through it all, Nate’s ragged breathing, so close.

“Gotta be around here somewhere, I know it—“ A loud crack. “No!”

“I’m so very… disappointed, Father. It is a shame we could not see more eye to eye. I thought we had an understanding.”

“You want me to kill hundreds of people, including people who are my friends!”

“I have told you why, again and again. G2-39, please use the tranquilizer.”

“No! Fucking—he is mine, you don’t touch him! No!!! _Give him back!_ ”

“Please take him to his rooms, unit. The safety upgrades were completed this morning, I trust?”

“Yes, sir.”

“No! No, no, give him back!” Nate’s voice was further away now, weaker. “He’sh—he’sh—“ he slurred. 

An indeterminate time and several whooshing, automatic doors later and a sigh was heard close to him. “He is going to be very upset.”

“He had his chance to cooperate. Please complete the transfer and changes we spoke of.” The click of strong strides echoed as the speaker walked away.

“Creator forgive me,” the first voice murmured. “I did what I could.”

* * *

;;; File online.lisp: Start-up diagnostic  
  
(defun diag (x env)  
  "Run critical systems check."  
  (cond  
      ((symbolp x) (gen-var x env))  
      ((atom x) (gen 'CONST x))  
      ((scheme-macro (first x)) (comp (scheme-macro-expand x) env))  
      ((case (first x)  
            (QUOTE (gen 'CONST (second x)))  
            (BEGIN (diag-begin (rest x) env))  
            (SET! (seq (comp (third x) env) (gen-set (second x) env)))  
            (IF (diag-if (second x) (third x) (fourth x) env))  
            (LAMBDA (gen 'FN (diag-lambda (second x) (rest (rest x)) env)))  
            ;; Procedure application:  
            ;; Scan function, then status, then protocols  
            (t (seq (mappend #'(lambda (y) (comp y env)) (rest x))  
      (comp (first x) env)  
            (gen 'call (length (rest x)))))))))  


Scanning operational status. All systems online.

Scanning chassis status. Operational: New hardware detected. 11 subsystems connected. Non-essential systems in standby.

Scanning protocols. 17 updated protocols since last scan. Analyzing. 3 protocols designated **Alpha** ; immediate implementation required. Recalibrating protocol structure based on designations.

Initializing systems.

Alpha directive: Ensure well-being of Institute asset Nathaniel Grey.

Alpha directive: Adhere to all secondary protocols, prioritizing instructions issued by Director Shaun Grey.

Alpha directive: Protect the Institute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of an interlude. We'll be going over to Nate's POV next chapter, backing up a little and getting his side of things. So if you're confused, it'll likely be clarified soon. Sorry for the delay, I had some issues in making this as clear as I could without hitting you over the head with a hammer of exposition. :P


End file.
